Armistice_
by Spalose
Summary: Andalites at Civil War. A strange entity following one certain individual. New allies. New hope. Sudden Death. Can anyone ever be at peace? (Andalite sci-fi) (R&R plz) (CHAPTER 6 Uploaded!!)
1. Armistice - Prologue and Chapter One - "...

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**- Armistice - **

By: Spalose

**__**

**_Prologue_**

The insides of the Andalite fighter glowed a pale green-blue in the night.' Spalose, the owner of the ship, and my shorm, was sleeping in the corner, using a human blanket for warmth. It puzzled me that he would use a human article for such purposes, seeing as the fighter provided its own heat, but perhaps it was all the years he had secretly spent on Earth as part of the dying establishment known as TASOPE. The Andalite Service of Planet Exploration had quickly been turned into an Aristh war movement on the surface of the planet, once word of the Yeerks had spread to them.

As for now, though, at the present, we were stationed in orbit over the world Platta, which was terraformed for the Andalite Unionists by a race known as the Kandastan. But much of that is in the past. My vision discs opened up and traced the cord, which was plugged into my small shell of a body to the large computer terminal that connected me to the Armistice Networks. The only sentient computer that existed. Me. The only Andalite brain capable of surfing an entire Z-Space internet web that linked the Galactic Great Powers. Me. The only being to never ever really be able to experience true life. I felt like a Yeerk, sitting there. My mind stuffed into a cyborg spider body. I closed off the vision discs, after taking another glance at Spalose, and then, I opened them again to the web, the rays of Z-Space twining all around me, information being sent back and forth. A million computer terminal screens were at my mercy. And so I drifted, shut off from real life, now part of a virtual one.

**_Chapter One_**

So it's inside every race? Just dwelling there? A force? A wave? What is it?

"It dwells inside all racesjust like antimatterit's anti-energy."

--------------------

The wind blew past my stalk eyes and the grass ruffled against my hooves. I stood on fertile soil, soon to be enriched and dug by Kandastan hands for farming. It was hard to believe that we, the arrogant race, were actually co-existing with our allies on the same planet. Reefi touched my hand. I turned a stalk eye to look at the three-foot tall anteater-like creature standing there beside me.

"Good morning, Spalose. You like to sit out here a lot, it seems," Reefi looked out at the field, which went on for several miles till it hit the forest on the horizon. Then he floated up towards my face, levetating himself with the force known as psionics, very common in the Kandastan race. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

I turned my head to look directly at him, replying, No, nothing. I was just enjoying the open air and fresh grasses. I can't say that much about the Homeworld. Or should I call it Albia: Homeworld to the Confederation.

"Yes, not much to say, is there? Except that you're here, with us, safe from their traitorous ways," Reefi responded, flitting his small wing flaps until he landed softly on the soil. The Kandastan owned twelve planets already, being experts at terraformation. And their economy hadn't failed for centuries. Yet their expertise in warfare was defense. We left offense to the Andalite ships and the Sstram ships. Another one of our allies, the Sstram race, led a very mysterious fleet called the Sphere, consisting of two parts, the InnerSphere and the OuterSphere. The Sstram were unmatched.

Reefi turned and faced the newest city on the planet of Platta, New Antioch. The city was to be the capital, named after the one on the Homeworld; Antioch. Already the largest of the buildings had been assembled.

It looks like the Legion Hall is already built. My, your workers are very fast. I'm terribly sorry we're not able to pay you in large amounts yetafter all, we just made the move from the Homeworldand our income dropped tremendously. I said.

Reefi nodded. "Oh don't worry, Spalose, your money isn't too important to us. When you can pay us is when we'll need it."

It felt good to have a friendly ally who didn't depend on you all the time. I began to walk towards the city, thinking constantly about the enemies on the Homeworld, the Andalites whose leader was a crazy War-King. A power-hungry force who eventually ALLIED with the Yeerks for offensive support! The War-King was rumored to have fallen victim to a psi overloadwhich eventually began to rot at his braindriving him insane.

I heard footsteps shuffling behind me, as Reefi hurried to keep up. But seeing as I couldn't slow down without walking uncomfortably, he lofted into the air and floated to meet my speed. We arrived at the graveled-out streets, where the city was a bustle with construction.

Reefi landed and tugged on my fur, "I have to be going, there's a meeting on KP-4 about the heat waves. I'll be back in about a week." He closed his eyes, and with a popping noise, disappeared out of my vision, using psi to teleport to his ship, a thousand miles west in the first star port. I marveled at the thought of Psionics, and the essence of anti-energy living inside every living creature.

Nestled in the nearby woods around the main city, was my fighter. It had been my home for so long, that I didn't find any need to dig myself a scoop that would only be unfamiliar. And so, as night fell, I walked up the ramp into the fighter, being greeted by my shorm, Rhazori.

Rhazori was sitting on the computer terminal in the cockpit, plugged into the nets. As I approached, his small eyes opened up and he flashed a mechanical smile. I looked up at the screen, which at the moment had nothing on it.

I brushed my hand over a small pad on the terminal, next to Rhazori's small robotic shell, and the screen came up. On it, a journal-type document was scrolling. My eyes immediately caught the word 'Seerow," and I commanded Rhazori to halt the scrolling. The document stopped, and a list of entries filled the view.

Rhazoriwhat is this? I asked, perplexed. A small image of an Andalite head appeared in the right corner of the screen, smiling sheepishly. The head then moved in front of the document, steadily watching my gaze.

"Itsalright, I can't hold it in. I've found Seerow's documents. His _actual _documents. The ones involved when he was teaching the Far—I mean the Yeerks," Rhazori stuttered.

Waitwhat did you say before Yeerks? What were you _going _to say? I asked, leaning in on the screen, looking at the apparition floating there. The head began to grow in size, and covered the entire screen. I quickly unplugged the cord connecting Rhazori to the terminal, and the head disappeared. His small body quivered and he lit up.

"Hey!" he buzzed, squabbling around on the slanted terminal, until I caught him before he fell, "Okayyou cannot show this to _anyone_ else except Tassax and Leepo, because they're trustworthy ambassadors from both of the Alliesonly I can trust them with it, and of course, I trust you, Spalose."

But what were you going to _say_? I asked again, lifting his small computerized face to look at me. You began with Far

"The Farlan; the race of slugs that _originally_ existed on the so-called Yeerk Homeworld. These are Seerow's entriesand from what I've learned from itthey weren't evil."

Well, then how did the Yeerks come about? I asked. Rhazori brought up another document, and it appeared in front of me on the screen.

"It's called the Journal of the Creator, a document so valuable, that it's been held deep in Yeerk security. I barely breached the nets unnoticed."

Let me read these through, and then we can council with the Allies, I said. So then I spent the entire night analyzing and reading the documents before me.

--------------------------

****

**Entry 001:**

> _I've arrived on the world of Farla, inhabited by strange beings known as Gedds. The Gedds are clumsy and primitive, and seem to rely on the help of the Farlan, their symbiotic race. The Farlan have recently caught my attention. Although they are parasitic, they are very friendly. I have decided that since they are the ones truly in control on the surface, I will teach them._

**Entry 004:**

> _All day have I explained the secrets of space flight to them. It has been a week since I've landed, and already they are learning quickly. One such Farlan, named Geigher, almost instantaneously picks up and understand everything I teach. This Farlan has potential._

**Entry 009:**

> _Geigher has helped me successfully build the first terminal on which I can better explain genetics to the Farlan. He seems to be very excited about genetics. He is by far the friendliest of my students. Strangely, though, three Farlan have vanished._

**Entry 023:**

> _I am almost ready to leave, and Geigher has helped me pack up. They have successfully built a mock lab, and they say as soon as I am gone, their first city will be started. I feel proud to know that I have helped a race up off the swampy ground and into civilization._
> 
> __

**------------------------------**

****

I thought for awhile after reading Seerow's documents, and then browsed "Seerow's Kindness," the law posted everywhere, imbedded in every hull of every ship. But the law stated only about the Yeerks. How could this have gotten by? The Hork-Bajir world must have surely seen the likes of the Farlan.

Rhazori scuttled up behind me and tapped a metal extremity on the bottom of my hoof. I glanced down to him, as he stared back up at me.

What? I asked him.

"Tassax and Leepo are here, they are waiting outside the fighter," he murmured.

I quickly shut off the screen, and walked to the hatch, opening it for them. Tassax, of course was not there physically, but only projecting a usable hologram. Leepo, the bright orange ambassador to the Kandastan, flittered up and landed inside the fighter. Tassax followed slowly, his large bulky mass taking a little longer to get in.

As I had learned, the Sstram were a split race. One sect, created for pilots and engineers, was the Ratica. At first glance, you'd visualize a huge Earth cockroach standing on two legs, but having more of a muscular shape to its arms and a shapelier head. They were all black, covered in an exo-skeleton, and had no actual speaking mouth, only the mandibles and opening which they used to intake vegetation. The other sect, though, I had not ever seen in person. They resided in the large vessels, which were actually hollowed out moons. They were called the Zentradi, a centaur like race with very long hair and six legs. They were the workers and researchers, who brought in all the money.

On the other end of the spectrum, was Leepo Kalamari, ambassador, and inventor of the Kalamari Power Station on the bottom of the ocean on Platta. The Power Station gave the planet its necessary power for fuel and energy. The two were seated, and Rhazori settled in the middle of our group, recording the conversation.

"It's been many a day since we've met, Spalose," Tassax spoke. Another thing about the Sstram race that was particularly frightening was their speech. Amplified in your head and switched around a billion times over, was binary code in which they used to communicate. It's frightening at first to actually "see" their speech, but after awhile, one becomes accustomed to it.

Yes, it has been awhile. Platta has been a success, I must say! The Yeerkish Empire nor the Confederacy know about it, so hopefully we'll be able to bulk up, and maybe hit them at an unexpected moment, I started, then remembering the secrets I had found out by reading Seerow's documents. Oh yesthere's something I must tell you about the Yeerks--


	2. Armistice - Chapter Two - "The Conferenc...

Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

"I've been working on trying to understand it, but having no body and barely any mind essence at all, it's been very hard. How would one go about finding their psionic potential?"

"Psionic potential depends completely on the mindit's a focusing point that you have to discoverjust like a fulcrum."

---------------------------

We didn't leave the fighter for three days, discussing what we might be able to do. The documents had opened up numerous opportunities for us, but one thing was clear, we had to get the Farlan.

Apparently, the Farlan were a race of slugs; similar in looks, but much, much smaller than the Yeerks. The one bad apple, known to the Yeerks as the Creator, was the one who brought them into the world. Geigher was the one who spawned the very first Yeerks, who then split off to create a race that now controlled most of Earth and the entire world of Farla. Geigher had intended to go back and face Seerow, using his Yeerk war-bred creations to destroy the Andalites, but after a surprising battle in the underground labs, Geigher and the other twelve of his geneticists were killed.

"But the important thing is, the Farlan still live, and we can still find a way to rescue them," Leepo pointed out, after the third groggy day being in the fighter. I nodded, but then, realizing this, began by saying, But wait, why would the Yeerks not entirely wipe out the Farlan? Why would they keep them as hostages?

Tassax, who had been silent through all of this, lifted a clawed hand and spoke.

"What is the one thing a Yeerk or Farlan wishes for? Life. Sight. Smell. Touch. The ability to be more than what they are. Imprisoning the Farlan from the Gedds is a punishment worse than death, for these species anyway. And if it hasn't crossed your mind yet, Geigher hadn't brainwashed his creations to be merciless killers, did he? No. He wanted to take control to Farlan, and highlighted in his plans was Capture all Free Farlan,' not Kill them.' "

I took the information in, and replied, Then the Yeerks must need them around for something. But what puzzles me is why they killed off their creators.

Tassax stood up, looking back at me, his green eyes brightening, "Even you Andalites don't want to be controlled, that's the one thing you're afraid of. It's the one thing _all races_ are afraid of. Being controlled. The Farlan who spawned the Yeerks posed a frightening threat to them. Of course they would take down the opposition, and then, to mask their fear, control entire peoples! Exactly what they did to the Hork-Bajir, to the Taxxons, and now to the humans. The fear of being controlled is buried deep within the hollows of their brains. Why did Geigher spend nights with his face glued to those tubes? To brainwash them. A million times over he must have muttered, Destroy the Andalites.' So the Yeerks aim to do that, and in fear of being controlled by _you, _they've spread their empire, and tried to take over Earth."

Tassax stood still for a moment. "Look, please remember that myself and my peoplewe are nuetral in this matter. Our goal, the one we make money off ofis to keep one side from totally obliterating the other. I know you may never consider peacebut I urge you to try." His eyes shifted downward. "Please notify me if anything new happens, we are here to help you, but not to kill off the Yeerks."

The first of us to leave was Tassax, and so his hologram shimmered away, and Leepo stood there, thinking, until, he too, disappeared into thin air. I read over the documents one last time, then fell into a sleep that lasted only for a matter of hours, when an alert of battle woke me.

The battle was over Albia, and a small group of Union Cargo Frigates were being torn apart by Yeerk Bug Fighters and Confederate Fighters. I was urged to stay far from the battle, and let the Cargo Frigates jump to Z-Space. I pleaded for us to send reinforcements, but Commander Srintraxx denied me the power to do so. The Commander was smart, so I took his final word as a good one. So I trotted out to New Antioch to observe the new buildings, and to enjoy the fresh air, after being cooped up in the fighter for so long.

The town didn't even seem to notice war, and it made me feel like a small child, when the Yeerk threat was very small, and before I was sent away to become an Aristh and train for battle in the Dome Ships. I remembered the Homeworld, and although, it saddened me, I didn't let the tears flow. This was my new home now, Platta, a peaceful resistance planet far from Yeerk control, and out of reach of the Confederates. The sky was turning gray as the first rains began to fall since I had arrived on the planet, but still construction continued. For refuge, I huddled under one of the onnings. A few Kandastan were sitting on a bench looking at me.

Hello, I murmured to them, watching the raindrops fall with my main eyes.

"Hey, you're War Prince Spalose, aren't you?" one of them inquired, sipping a drink he held. I looked over, then down, noticing that since I had attended a meeting of the War-Princes, my ceremonial sash was still on. The Kandastan laughed.

Yes, that's me. I replied. The rain began to slow up, and as sun broke through, I stood up and walked out into the mud, feeling the warm rays on my back and the cooler wind whipping past my body. The neutralizing temperature gave me a shiver.

"I hear these are the first signs of a huge battle to come," Rhazori said, as I entered the fighter, tired out and ready to sleep. I looked up at him, plugged into the terminal again, scanning the nets and picking up any radar or information from the enemy sides as possible.

Really? Who do you hear this from? I asked, plopping myself down on the grass growing beneath my hooves on the floor of the fighter. Rhazori's digital face appeared on the screen.

"Tassax," he said back, the face shaping into a Sstram head. I shuddered at the grotesque mandibles, quivering with the speech. Then, all too suddenly, Tassax's real voice chimed in, almost comically.

"And what's wrong with my mandibles, Spalose? Ha ha ha." I smirked, knowing that Tassax was standing right behind me, his hologram casting a shadow down upon me. I turned to face him, sighing a little.

Nothing's wrongso what's up? I asked, stretching out my arms, and leaning on the wall of the fighter.

"You said it yourself, we have to get the Farlan. What better way to do that then to take them?" he smiled. Another scary thing about the Sstram - the way they smile.

For a moment, I didn't believe him. You want to directly plunge yourself into the heart of the Yeerk Empire, guarded a million times over? Here, I have a better idea, why don't we just throw ourselves into a blender? That would have the same effect!

Tassax let out another laugh. It reminded me of the time I first encountered him, on the Sstram War Ship Rampage. Although the incident had been wiped from my memory, he later re-called it to me.

"No no no, Spalose, why go in ourselves, if we can pay highly trained professionals to do it instead?" he remarked.

Alright, and where are we going to find these highly trained professionals?

"I thought you'd never ask!" Tassax exclaimed. Withing seconds, I felt a jolt of some sort of wave run down my spine, and my vision blurred. When I was able to see again, I was sitting in a completely white room, at the head of a table. On each side, two my surprise, was a Hork-Bajir and a Taxxon. Both of them looked at me. Leepo and Tassax stood at the other end of the table.

Woah, what happened here? I questioned. The Taxxon and the Hork-Bajir both looked at Leepo.

"Spalose, we've figured out a way to get the Farlan, and without blood shed," Leepo said. Tassax smiled as if he was pleased to hear no blood shed.'

Alright, explain then.

Tassax floated above the table and then gestured to the two aliens sitting on both sides of the table. "These two, though it maybe hard to believe, are two of our best stealth mercenary pilots."

I almost jumped, astounded that a Taxxon could be smart, even able to control a Sstram fighter. As if he heard me, the Taxxon spoke out, in thought-speech.

War-Prince Spalose. Andalite leader, do not take me as a brainless centipede. There's actually a long story about me and my friend across the table.

This sudden intellectuality coming from a Taxxon blew my mind. From what I knew about their race, they were controlled by a hive mind.' The Hork-Bajir took his turn, standing up and walking towards me, to make around of the table as he said, "Glophaz and I here, we were POWs back in Earth year 1997. After our Yeerks were removed, we were somehow, well, its hard to believe, upgraded among the Sstram. They knew our fighter handling potential, and so they helped by resizing Glophaz's brain and helping me learn the ways of stealth. Our positions in the Sstram OuterSphere skyrocketed, and so we've been called here to help you. In exchange, we ask of something."

Leepo continued, "I have what they want, and if we pay these two pilots, they can go into the Yeerk Homewor—Farla, literally undetected, pack up the penned Farlan, and bring them to Platta for refuge. Because you're the head of our group, I ask your permission."

Was this plausable? Almost instantaneously I said yes.

What do they want in return? I managed to ask.

"We're really partial to a special psionic crystal that grows on one of the Kandastan planets. We're asking for, oh300 tons." The Hork-Bajir chimed in. I turned to Leepo.

And you're willing to abide by this? I asked him. He nodded to me, while Tassax settled on the ground next to me. I extended both my hands. Alright, deal. When do you think it will be happening? The two let go of my hands after a firm shake, and with smiles on their faces, replied, "Sooner than you think."


	3. Armistice - Chapter Three - "Dmitri"

Chapter Three

**_Chapter Three_**

"The crystalit appears in his fighter each night, as if it werewatching on usWhat does it do? I've almost felt a connection to it. I'm Andalite after all, but how come I feel so connected to it?"

Crystals watch over their racesand tune into the thoughts of their races through the energy band that runs through every living creature. It is like—a great battery with a mindspreading its energy to all that would accept it.

------------------------------

And so we waited, for the mercenaries to do the job they promised. That night, I could not get a wink of sleep, and when I woke up, Rhazori would try and get me to go back to sleep. But thoughts of small slugs entering and leaving my brain kept me from dozing off.

Spalose, try and get some rest, when you do, I do.

The voice came out of nowhere, reverberating in my head, around the bends and curves of the insides of the fighter, and even in my mind. I jumped from my spot, looking around for whatever made the noise. I snapped my head over to Rhazori, who, in his digital gaze, looked at shocked as I was.

You heard it too, Rhazori? I stammered. Rhazori nodded, also looking around the fighter. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a small blue spot glistening, and floating in the air above one of the terminals.

Wh-wh-who are you? I managed to say, watching the ghastly blue orb grow a little more and increase in brightness. It moved over towards me slowly.

I am the one who watches over the Andalites every night, every day, every second, hearing their thoughts and feeling their pain. I am Andalite Psi, I am Dmitri. the orb spoke. The voice was calming, soothing, and brought my frightening shiver down to a dull tremor. I settled a little.

Youare you---

I am the Andalite's Psi crystal. I am your crystal, whom _YOU'VE_ been chosen to guard. it said.

I was shocked. The crystal that contained the entire Andalite race's life energy was floating around in my fighter. I moved closer; and in that, felt my insides tingle. My mitochondria produce psi.

You're the—but if you're here, what is in the Temple on Ablia, distributing and anchoring the power? I asked, remembering what Tassax had told me in my first studies as a psionic guardian.

My physical essence remains in the temple, evenly distributing the power. While my mental essence is free to roam and watch over my people. I have existed this way for many millenia. But...unfortunately, I'm growing weaker every day. it replied.

Weaker? How are you becoming weaker? I asked it, rubbing my shoulder, a chilly breeze flowing off of the essence.

It almost beamed into a saddened tone. Because Andalites are dying, Spalose. This war is reducing your once brilliant people to nothing. You're on the verge of genocide!

Never had the thought occurred to me, that my people were on the brink of destroying themselves. I had never before considered that if the fighting continued, the Andalites could extinguish themselves into nothing. And that would kill Dmitri. Without him, we would die, and without us, he would die. It had to stop.

I can sense what you're thinking, and it is right, and I commend you. I'm glad you have learned of this. Life is precious, Spalose. Dmitri spoke into my mind as he disappeared into the night. And so I was alone in the fighter, Rhazori just sitting there in awe.

Let's get some sleep, buddy. That experience is what will change things around here. We can't let Dmitri die, and we can't let the Andalite race destroy itself.

I drifted off to sleep, graciously awaiting the morning when I would try and restore peace to the Andalite Empire.

_Spalose drifted off to sleep, lying there, curled up, dreaming. Dreaming that I could no longer do. Sleep that I could no longer catch. All I was capable of was recording my memories into a computer bank. The terminal was full of my visions, my thoughts. Because of my limited space in the shell, and so few brain cells, without the computer hook-up, I was small and insignificant. The appearance of the Andalite Psi Crystal had stirred my thoughts a little, almost made me feel alive again, but in my mind' I knew I would never experience true life._

_The terminal screen buzzed with an incoming message from Leepo. Apparently, new squads of his latest ships, the Psionic Bumers, were finally ready. Ready for what? I asked myself. Then it came, another message. I scanned over it three times._

_"Priority One Distress Signal from Andalite Confederacy. The Yeerkish Empire has struck. We're losing terribly. Please send help. Anyone. Albia is under heavy attack. Send help. Anyone. Repeat, Priority One Distress Signal." And then it was over. I prepared to tell Spalose, knowing that the next few nights may be hardly a rest for him._


	4. Armistice - Chapter Four - "The Tide of ...

Chapter Four

**_Chapter Four_**

"Already your outersphere pilots have gotten hold of the Farlan. It's amazing. I didn't think they could work that fast."

"Yes, they're very good. That's why we pay them a lot. And that's why your pal, Leepo paid them a lot. But right now, the thing that concerns be is the huge space battle over Ablia, the Andalite Homeworld. I have alerted Tassax, and apparently Spalose and he are working out things."

"Let's hope so, for the sake of the Andalites, let's hope so."

---------------------------------------------

Nothing rested, nothing stood still. Everyone moving, the battle bridge full! Bumping, cursing, laughing, tripping. I nearly collapsed. After a simulated eternity, I reached my quarters and piled in, switching the screen on. Tassax immediately came up.

"Spalose, I'm sending over reinforcements for you. Yes yes, I know its like the first time that I'm risking war machines in battle, but you know as well as I do what must NOT be destroyed for the sake of the Andalites. And it is on Albia."

The psi temple. Where Dmitri's physical essence is kept. I have to go down there. I have to get to himit.

"What did you say?" he asked, swishing his long nerve tendrils back behind his head.

Nothing. I repeated about four times, while talking to every major Captain in my fleet. I arranged for eight Dome Ships, 300 Vavyle Fighters, and 12 of the New Gla War Machines, which were centipede-like in structure to head to a Nav point in Z-Space.

Within the next few minutes, sir. one said. I nodded to him, and he disappeared.

"You sure you want to go to the surface, I mean by now, the Yeerks must have captured every major city. Your brothers are in over their heads." Tassax said.

I'm the guardian, aren't I? The crystal's dying, I have to get it out of there! I gasped, stopping for a moment. A signal came up over the entire Dome Ship, blasting loudly over the speakers.

"ANDALITE HOMEWORLD DECLARED UNDER FIRESTORM BY THE YEERKISH EMPIRE. CONFEDERACY HAS DECLARED WAR ON THE YEERKS."

My hearts nearly stopped beating. Firestorm. My homeworld was burning to death. The Yeerks had set it aflame. Then rage entered my system. Rage and sudden hatred for the vile aliens. But I had to keep it under control.

Word of the Farlan being rescued from the surface of the Yeerk Homeworld had reached every Yeerk living. Their immediate blame went towards their allies. Which were the Confederates. One could almost feel sorry for the traitors. But the main reason the planet needed saving was the temple. And only so much time remained until Dmitri was destroyed.

"Oh, Spal, by the way, you can take a breather for about 2 hours, the temple is underwater, and water doesn't burn." Tassax face molded into a scared smile and then disappeared off the terminal.

I rushed outside, grabbing Rhazori as I went. The bridge was loud with conversation and panic, and I had to close off my mind to keep peace in my brain. Underwaterwho would've known? That should keep it nice and safe.

A flash of light blinded me, and Dmitri appeared hovering two inches from my face.

Save me

No time to waste. I assembled the troops on the bridge and spoke to them. When I was through, everyone was dismissed to the ready rooms, where they entered their fighters and waited for the Dome Ship to re-enter real space. Four minutes till we would re-emerge.

Those four minutes passed like a heartbeat, and soon we punched the engines and leapt out, finding ourselves in the middle of silence. For a moment I checked the calculations. Had we made a miss-jump?

Sir, permission to attack the oncoming Yeerk fighters? a captain said.

Dumbfounded, I replied, Yeah, shoot the hell out of them!

A static shield had been set up around our fleets by Leepo's commanding squadrons. It helped us tremendously. Just then, a pair of shadowy masses appeared maybe 30 miles away. Tassax's troops. Then, above us, another 30 miles up, more figures. Our powerhouses had arrived. Within the heated battled, I made my way to the launching deck, where my personal fighter awaited. Rhazori clung to my shoulder, and within two minutes, we were heading down.

Down to the atmosphere that reeked of smoke. Down into the placed I once called home. Down into the blistering heat of the firestorm.

The whole time I had to fly through there, I was crying. Rhazori piloted the steadfast fighter, heading to the ocean where Tassax had pointed out that the temple was. Yeerk bombers whizzed past our cloaked fighter, still dropping their loads of firepower. Flames reached up almost 2 miles, tickling the belly of our craft.

I regained myself, and noticed that we were approaching the ocean. It seemed so welcoming compared to the smoke filled skies of our once beautiful homeland. We slowed our decent, and dropped into the water.

Almost immediately, we were greeted by Confederate subs, who, having kept the same code, noticed us in our cloak. They escorted us on our journey to the sea floor, where a small rock temple covered in seaweed, was being guarded.

But how-- I started.

"Tassax informed the Confederacy of the psi temple. They were so scared, they believed anything."

That was enough reassurance for me. I stopped the fighter near the temple entrance and dropped a small anchor. I walked into the air lock and began to morph. My skin turned rubbery as I imagined the shark. And as soon as I lay there, flopping around, Rhazori let the water in. It had been maybe three years since I had morphed, so everything was a memory. Until I felt the total calm predator mind subside beneath mind.

I swam close to the temple, and entered through the hole which was the ancient entrance. I grew very dark. Darker than the bottom of the ocean itself. I lost all sight. Aimlessly searching, I suddenly caught glimpse of blue light. Dmitri!

I powered my shark tail and emerged in an air-lit cavern, demorphing and adjusting to the slight darkness.

Why, hello, War-Prince Spalose. I see our earlier attempts to kill you were unsuccessful, but now that I have you right where I want you, I can do my dirty work here and now. the voice was file and I only knew it to be one person. Or rather, one slug.

Glad to finally meet you again, Visser Three.

This would be an easy match. Here, close to Dmitri, I could fully use my psionic potential. So I closed my eyes while facing him. He lashed out at me, but I swerved, feeling his presence in my mind.

Why don't you strike back? he asked, annoyed. I thought you were a skilled War-Prince.

I'm also a smart War-Prince. I focused my internal energy and released it quickly. When I opened my eyes, the Visser was trapped. Contained in a shimmering field of stasis. With no one to harm me, I proceeded, making my way to Dmitri, lying, rather than floating above the podium. He had grown much smaller than the last time I saw him.

Thank you, Spalose. he murmured.

I cradled him in my arms and through my mind, contacted Tassax.

"Alright, you have it. Good. If you can get it to me quickly, we can get it into well, consider it "Critical Care for Psionic Crystals." " he said. I made my way back to the fighter, morphing back to shark when I was knee deep in water. Sheltered in my mouth, I carried Dmitri to the open hatch, and when the water drained, moved him into the fighter.

We're dying, Spalose. We're dying


	5. Armistice - Chapter Five - "The New Repu...

Chapter Five

**_Chapter Five_**

"The Yeerks are backing off, and the psi crystal is in your people's hands, nursing it back to health. Now all that's left is to save the burning ball of granite we call Albia."

"Tassax isn't too happy. The many deaths that have happened are disappointing him. Hopefully, peace can be restored."

-------------------------------

The Yeerk fleet had been wiped out. And though I can't say we didn't suffer any casualties, the Yeerks lost everything, and with their defeat, also came their victory. They had burned and scarred our Homeworld.

With nothing to do at the moment, I sulked in my fighter, grieving for the so many deaths of the Confederacy. They were still our people, and now most of them were dead.

Rhazori scuttled up behind me, tapping at my hoof.

"Spalose, a message for you on the terminal."

I turned around and walked over, looking into the eyes of the War-King of the Confederacy, still alive, and saddened. Beaten. Defeated. With all four of his eyes cast down, he said, We would like to establish peace, and whole the Andalite Empire that has been torn up.

I nodded to him. I felt no threat or danger from this high officer. The Confederacy was no threat to us. We had saved them from genocide, and sheltered their remaining fleet, while still keeping a close eye on them.

I accept. A treaty will be written tomorrow, and we can meet on your Royal Dome Ship. Rest well. I replied. And now that they had no planet for resources or shelter, we had to feel a little pity towards them.

Tassax appeared behind me, looking a little broken.

"That battle_could_ have decided the fate of this warand I admire your honor for your Homeworld. But sadly, I feel bad for both sides. The Yeerks suffered heavy loss. They sent in their entire fleet, in order to wipe out the Confederacy, and they were destroyed. And to you, your race is dying, too. But I propose a solution. Shall we talk about it?" he asked.

Come to the signing of the peace treaty tomorrow. The War-King will be honored to see you and Leepo both. Finally, the Andalite Empire will be mended, and there will we talk about our plans for the future. I said, curling up in the corner of my fighter, and getting the first sleep I could, in the last 3 days of that battle.

_Our entire fleet, gone. Destroyed. No match for both Andalites forces, the Sstram, and the Kandastan. We had gone into the battle expecting to destroy the traitorous Confederacy, but only ended up burning the Andalite planet. In a way, it was victory, and in a way, it was defeat._

_Visser Three has disappeared._

The next morning, Tassax, Leepo, Rhazori, and I shuttled ourselves towards the War-King's Dome Ship. It was slaughtered halfway down, its engines amputated by the Yeerk attack, and the Dome Was closed off, being shattered at the top. Its some 1,000,000 troops were crammed in the quarters and into smaller Z-Space vessels we had provided. We knew before we stepped on the Dome Ship that the all around attitude would be frightened, irritated, and depressing.

We stepped out of the shuttle and into the corridor leading from the landing bay to the bridge. Immediately all was quiet as I entered the bridge first. My attire consisted of my ceremonial sash, embroidered with a few awards, including the War-Prince medal. Tattered Andalite soldiers and civilians alike stared on, both at me, and my alien companions following.

I turned to the nearest general, asking where I could find the War-King. They pointed to an elevator, which led to the King's chambers. We proceeded. Once inside, Leepo leaned against the wall and said, "What an eventful last week, eh?"

The car stopped and we got out, heading to the only hatch in front of us. It opened quickly, where the War-Prince was sitting alone, looking out a view port at Platta beneath us.

Greetings War-King Fezzernoff. I said, breaking the silence.

He wasn't startled, having seen our reflection in the glass all too well. I placed a piece of paper in front of him, handing a pen out. The War-King smiled.

I'm glad that our Empire will finally be one again. he said, quickly signing it. Tassax and Leepo signed it also, as did I, lastly.

Then, by locking our tail blades together, we sealed the treaty. From there on, we may not have been a huge Republic, having lost almost 32 billion lives, but the point is, at least _were_ a Republic again.


	6. Armistice - Chapter Six -

Chapter Six

**_Chapter Six_**

**__**

"The Farlan are safe then, I take it?"

"Yes, and we have chosen one of your people to protect them, he's skilled in the Psi area, he just doesn't know it yet."

"I love how you refer to them as my people, even though I'm no longer _one _of them."

Morpeed joined me outside a Kandastan café, tired from work and holding his glasses in his hands. His face was in a pleased, tired smile, but nonetheless more cheerful than I was feeling. Albia was still burning, and there was nothing we could do at the moment. Tassax said he could find a way, and I believed him, so all I could do then was play the waiting game.

Good to see you, friend. Morpeed said finally breaking the silence, and causing me to dismantle from my daze and my thoughts.

Yes, indeed. It's been quite a few months since we last met. Hectic they have been, eh? I replied, starting to walk. Morpeed kept in step with me.

Oh yes. I was appointed a position to teach the Farlan. I mean, more than they know already. With luck, they will learn to build a colony. Not that I won't teach them the arts, music, and all that. he said.

I nodded, squinting in the bright sun. We walked under an awning, passing a few Kandastan workers, still finishing up shops and housing structures. The air was fresh with the harvest not too far off.

The first one since we've been here. I said, not thinking.

Of course, also unaware of my thoughts, Morpeed gave a confused expression.

Harvest. I mean as Andalites, we never imagined how great it would be, but doesn't the wheat smell good? I asked, inhaling deeply.

I suppose so yes. When's the date of the first gathering? he asked, looking out to where I had my gaze set.

Supposed to be next month, but just the smell tells you that it's near. I broke out of that thought, switching to his newly appointed position. So, when do you go to them?

He shifted in his stance, taking in a deep breath, now noticing the pleasant aroma. Actually, I'm going down to the lake today, he said.

The lake? They had a lake, then? Nodding uneasily, I turned to him. Well, let me know how the first session goes. I heard they're a little cranky, but very thankful nonetheless. As for me, I'm working out how to save a dying planet. Y'know, the one a couple light years from here, burning to death? I said, sarcastically.

He forced a smile. Good luck to you, Spalose. I will see you soon. With that, he walked away, turned a corner, heading to where he kept his speeder. With nothing left to do with my time, I headed back to the fighter.

As always, Rhazori was there, but this time he did not greet me. I took no offense, but wondered what he was deeply rooted in not to notice me. The screen above the terminal was blank, so I tapped his small shell a couple of times. No response.

Rhazori? Are you here? I asked, deciding to turn on the screen. All I saw was binary code. So much for that. Where could Rhazori have gone? He had the potential to travel along the networks connecting the Sstram, Andalites and Kandastan, but not during the day when I counted on him to spend time with me.

I turned the terminal on myself and typed in Rhazori's ID number, the one he was assigned as an X-10 Andalite ComputerSole. When I hit the enter key, the fighter lit up, the instruments turning back on, and the screen switching to the familiar splash screen of the Allied Networks. Rhazori's digital head appeared and his shell body stirred.

Where were you? I asked.

His face smiled uneasily. "I was at a Sstram conference on Gantrithor One. I've been listening in on what plans they have for Albia. It sounds extreme so far."

So give me the dirt. I smiled.

"Tassax would rather you not know just yet, as they are still figuring out details. It will be costly, though."

Costly? How much?

"Oh, well estimated to be around the $2 billion mark."

Not too shafty, but if it works, we'll pay anything. How's Dmitri coming along?

"Sstram psi experts say heis still weak. But with luck, they can get power pumping back into him. It will take a LONG time, they say."

At this point, to save Dmitri and Albia would almost surely save the Andalites from extinction. But they had to be done in a specific order.

"Oh yes, and the Confederatesif we can still call them thatare scheduled to be landing on Platta in the next few hours, so we'll be finding temporary spots for them all. There's a section of forest in the Northern Hemisphere that might be suitable. But then again, we don't own the whole planet, so negotiations are still being made with the Kandastanian owners of each sector."

So many things going on at once. Rhazori finished with his daily reports and went back to the Sstram conference. I took the time to check the satellite display of Albia, but the satellite gave no response. The Yeerks must have destroyed it.

They're next to go. We've got their creators, now its time to wipe out the monsters themselves. I whispered to myself, sending a request to build up a huge attack force to raid the Yeerk Homeworld. Srintraxx later replied with, "When Albia is safe."

Four days later, Sstram and Andalite officials met up at New Antioch. They assembled in the governor's building, and I was invited to attend, so I cleaned myself up and carried Rhazori a small device that Rhazori could see and hear from.

The Kandastan brought their own chairs, while the Sstram sort of hovered there and we Andalites just stood. Governor Debblix stepped forward and spoke the all of us.

"The Sstram have proposed a sure fire way to stop the firestorm on Albia. It will be very costly however, and because they are neutral, they offer it to us at the same price they would any alien species. They propose that a large sunblock be placed in front of the planet to keep the sun's rays from hitting it, causing the temperature to drop below freezing and the fires to wear away. It will do some damage to some of the ecosystems, but I doubt that any of the animals not evacuated yet are dead anyway. What we need is a majority vote from the High Council. The issue will be taken to them after this. All for this idea, please raise your right arm."

There was no doubt in any of it, we all raised our arms. We must save the planet in any way possible. So it was settled here, but now it must be stated before the High Council. The Andalite High Council was the type of government established on Platta. It was a democracy, but just like any democracy, it was a party system. One side, the Liberals, the other side, the Conservatives. And at the top, the Council. So that day, the issue was brought to them. They more than agreed, they offered to pay the Sstram themselves if need be.

So it was a blaring success, in the next month, the final construction of a panel 4,000 miles long and 4,000 miles wide would take place.


End file.
